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Do You Have a Cigarette?
Written by binjuicejunky. No one is taking me seriously. I don’t blame them really. I mean, who would? It’s been a few weeks now and I’ve given up telling people, I lack the energy. It’s not the craziest story, or most unbelievable, just a random lady looking for a cigarette. Big deal, right? Even so, as I recount, I have to constantly wipe my phone free of sweat so I can type properly. I’ll kick it off with some cliche background information about myself. I’m a 17 year old university student on the Gold Coast, Australia. I live a fair distance away from the campus so I catch a bus, followed by a tram save myself the extra $3 I would spend if I drove my car. I’m 5’11 and have a thin, masculine build. I’m neither ugly nor am I attractive. Average I guess. I’m genuinely friendly and well mannered but I often find myself with a sad, anxiety ridden expression on my face, I won’t get into that. When you match that up with a septum piercing, baggy op-shop clothes and cheap cologne, I’m the end product. Not the most approachable guy but it wouldn't be the most daunting task. Anyways, it was a Wednesday night. I was studying. Well, staring at my notepad rather. Regardless, it was getting late so I drowsily shuffled my way to the tram stop to jump on the last one before they stopped running for the night. The tram has about 3 or 4 carriages and was fairly empty, leaving lots of seats available. I sit down on a 4 seater so I can prop my legs up on the seats facing me, so i can comfortably stress about my upcoming assessment. I wouldn't consider it to be an ordinary night because you don’t usually get an angry drunk yelling semi-audible english through his iPhone. But apart from that, almost everybody else on the tram was minding their own business, gazing mindlessly at their mobiles. Almost everybody. Because there was this one lady. Early twenties perhaps? She didn’t look old, that’s for sure. She was wearing a loose, long sleeved black t-shirt that was way too big for her and a long, dark coloured skirt with basic aztec designs on it. The skirt extended slightly below her ankles, showing her bare feet. She had long, brown, curly hair and a skinny, yet well defined face, with large dark bags under her unsettling bug-like eyes. With her eyebrows slightly raised, she was smiling. Not particularly at anything, just looking around the carriage, but maintaining that slightly off facial expression. I found this a little odd. My mum always told me it was rude to stare. Serves me right, because the next thing I notice was her staring straight back at me from the other end of the tram, still smiling. It wasn’t necessarily an intimidating smile a psycho killer would give to his next victim, similar to a sarcastic one maybe, like a cartoon character, however less subtle. Anyways, I politely smile back and quickly retreat behind the dull glow of my phone. The tram continues through the gold coast and every few minutes I would not-so-sneakily glance at the woman, unfortunately meeting her eyes first every time. The tram finally reaches my stop and the woman conveniently hops off too. I don’t think much of it because it was the final stop. My bus wasn't here yet so I sit on a nearby bench. This was when the lady approached me, still smiling. “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” she said, in a monotone voice. “Do you have a cigaaaaaarette?” I politely said no, in which she replied with a simple okay. The bus came within a few minutes so I was temporarily saved from the women’s creepy gaze. My bus takes approximately 20 minutes for me to get home. During that time I was certain she was still staring at me but I dared not to look back. I get off at my stop. This is when shit seriously starts to get weird. She gets off at the same stop as me. Fuck. I quickly half walk/half jog back to my house, looking behind me to see if the fucking weird bitch is following me. Surely enough she was loitering about 70 metres or so behind me, slightly in view. I eventually get home, go through my gate and was greeted by my two little jack russels, reassuring me with some sort of safety. At least they’d go nuts if someone inside our property. Just as i reach my front door I look back at my gate. And you guessed it, the smiling lady was still there. “Do you have a cigaaaaaarette?”. Fuck being polite this time. I freaked out and went off at her completely. Threatening to go to the police, who were just a few blocks away, whilst stringing together as many swear words into sentences as I could think of. She backed off. I get inside my house and lock every single opening to the outside world I could find and even woke up my mum to tell her of the situation. She just assumed the lady was confused or something and totally brushed it off. I wish. A few hours go by and I’m on my laptop, in bed when i hear a knock on the front door. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I genuinely shat myself. From on of my windows, I can see the front door, but the person at the front door would inevitably see me too. I peek through my curtains. And she was there, still fucking smiling. I didn’t hear her come through the gate and my dogs didn't even bark. What the fuck. Lucky for me, she spoke again. “Can I come innnnnnnnnn?” That was it. I was frozen in fear. Why is she here? Why did she follow me? I snap back to reality and instinctively grab my biggest pocket knife and my phone to call the police, at the same time eliminating all chances of this lady being able to see me. During the phone call to the police they ask if I was able to still see the lady, so I look out again and she was gone. That was the first encounter with her. She has visited me 3 times now, on different nights and at different times. But she always asks if she can come in, in that same monotone voice with that fucking terrifying smile. So far she has always left after I tell her to fuck off. Video Category:CreepyPasta Article